


One Breath Away

by IdolSoulWriter



Category: Billy Idol (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Awkward Flirting, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domination, Drama, F/M, Humor, Oral Sex, Power Play, RPF, Sex, Spanking, Submission, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdolSoulWriter/pseuds/IdolSoulWriter
Summary: I thought a trip to Vegas would be all that I needed to change my entire life. In a way it kind of worked. I'm still not sure if I've died and gone to heaven or hell. Maybe it's all just a dream. At least Billy Idol is there and we'll survive the zombie apocalypse together. I hope.





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly fan fic that is based on a super weird dream I had about taking a trip to Las Vegas, running into Billy Idol, and the morning after that a zombie apocalypse happened. It was a dream that stuck with me for a while so I had to write it down. It's all fantasy and I in no way expect anyone to actually read it but I'm going to put it here anyway. Ten chapters are already written but, I'll be putting them up slowly as I don't want to spam them all at once so tags that exist now may not apply to all of the current chapters but they will eventually.

The nearly five hours of travel seemed to take a lifetime. Maybe it was because I had been anticipating this trip for far too long. I had booked it months ago. My home life and job weren’t anything to brag about (or be proud of). Then again, my life had never been like that either. I was possibly doomed to be a nobody. I had found my niche in writing but it wasn’t making me much money. Not enough to live off of anyway. I had projects but they were always in development. Doing as much as I could and taking it as far as I could take it while I relied on other people to say yes or no. It was a much longer process than people assumed. Sending out scripts and manuscripts. Even if people were interested after a pitch it didn’t mean you had a chance. If you did have a chance you were waiting weeks and months for responses. The vast majority of the time they weren’t positive. I could sell self-published books just fine but not to a point where I could quit working. My following was devoted but too small. I had to branch out but I didn’t know how. This trip I had decided to take was to restore me. Find a new muse or become inspired.

It wasn’t my first trip to the city and it wouldn’t be my last. It was my first time staying on the strip, though. I had never been able to afford it before. I would be staying at Mandalay Bay. It was a standard room but it was still more than I could have hoped for. A total duration of four nights and five days. I was alone out here but not lonely, or afraid. There was no reason to be. I’ve always not only been a city girl but the street smarts I had acquired over my rough life had wised me up to everything I needed to know to survive in a place like this. It also wasn’t as if I didn’t come from a large city back east anyway. I found that so many people could see cities like this, L.A, Chicago, or New York as intimidating but I saw them differently. I saw them not only as a challenge but a renewed source of energy. I was a night owl and always had been and now I was walking through a city that never slept.

The first thing I had done upon arrival was take the courtesy shuttle to my hotel. The flight out had been a later one. It departed at night, nine o’clock eastern time. After the four hours or so my internal clock felt as if it were one in the morning but the local time hadn’t advanced very much. I unpacked a few things, not everything. I had never been very big on unpacking the whole bag. Even when I moved places for good, things always ended up staying in boxes until I absolutely needed them. It was easier for me to do that than to continually reorganize everything seeing as how I moved every few years or so to a new place. It was in my room that I saw the brochure.

Nothing very unique about it. Just an ordinary pamphlet that detailed all the current shows and sights to see in the city while I was there. It was after flipping a few pages in, I noticed that there was a show that I had been unaware of but very much wanted to see. Billy Idol, live at The House Of Blues. It felt almost as if it were a sign to me because that location was so close I was practically living in it. This is what prompted me to take my walk, just to go check out the venue. Something which may have been a bit of a mistake seeing as how by the time I arrived, whatever show had been going on was just getting out. The only thing I could see was glimpses of the inside as the doors held open to accommodate the sea of people rushing out of there. Most of them were drunk or high. Possibly both. I stepped back to check the listing and marquee outside. Billy Idol. He had just got finished performing. It looked like he’d be doing shows the next three nights.

I couldn’t say I was the biggest fan of his but I also couldn’t say I was not a fan. I had been aware of his work since I was much younger. I had cousins and siblings of friends who were older as a grew up and they had taken interest in him. My father, a strict conservative, also played one of his albums nearly all the time in the eighties. It was music I grew up with, enjoyed, and had been exposed to. Same with posters of him here and there. They had scared me just a bit before they started to intrigue me. Mostly because of the theme and the clothing. I had been led to believe he was a vampire. I later realized I was confusing him with a similar looking man from a show called Buffy The Vampire Slayer. It wasn’t until very late into my adulthood that I drew the connection. Something that still makes me smile.

It seemed that tickets were still available, according to the sign, and I was directed to purchase them online. I went to his website and scrolled through the options. After reviewing them, I found I could purchase a ticket in the standing room area for under one hundred dollars and that not only suited my tastes but my budget as well. Once ticket confirmation was had, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and watched the doors start to shut as the final people exited. Except, I slipped behind them and was able to catch the door with my foot. I knew this was something I shouldn’t be doing but I also knew that I only had one life to live and I was going to live it. I was finding more and more inspiration as the moments passed.

Billy Idol had become a symbol to me over my life. He was more than just an icon. This is why I would classify myself as a fan but not really a fan. You see, I wasn’t a fan of his music nearly as much as I was a fan of the person that he was. Not that his music didn’t enthrall me but the man behind that? That’s what I was interested in and always had been. Since the release of his most recent album had come with an autobiography to explore I had finally been able to do both. It was worth it. I hadn’t known he was going to be doing any shows in Vegas when I booked my trip or even before I left. It was almost good that I hadn’t, in a way, or I would have driven myself crazy with anticipation. Now I could just jump right to the good part. The show I’d be attending would be the next night, provided I did not get arrested for entering this arena after things had been ended.

Many times I had done things exactly like this. Especially at concert venues. To start with, I was female and decently attractive. By decently I mean tall, thin, and legs that were said to go up to my neck by random catcallers on busy streets. I wasn’t anywhere near being a hot girl, even if I had attempted to be a hot girl I really only ranked a seven on my best days (eight if I was in darker lighting) but I also wasn’t off-putting. I was older as well, in my early thirties now. All of this meant that it was usually assumed I was genuinely lost if I claimed to be instead of up to no good as if I were a teenager. I was adept at spinning excuses very quickly to get myself out of a jam and playing stupid if I needed to in order to escape trouble. So far, so good, as nothing criminal had ever stuck on my record even if I’d done plenty of things with intent beforehand.

I found that if you were entering a place you should not be, but walked around confidently and with a purpose, people didn’t tend to question you. They assumed you were supposed to be there because this method made you look the least suspicious. Entering a place you weren’t supposed to go then crouching, sneaking, and behaving generally nervous, drew attention to a person. This method had gotten be backstage before and with any luck, it would get me backstage now. I only hoped that I didn’t run into security because, more often than not, they did know everyone who was supposed to be in the general area.

The venue was smaller than I had anticipated it to be and once I got through the second set of double doors I was almost instantly placed right next to the stage. Just off to the side. There were only a few people in here and no security. Billy was on the stage, talking with the other people in the band I assumed had been hired specifically for these shows. They were younger than him and not one of them was recognizable to me as I’d know Steve Stevens and his hair from a mile away. I came into the room more and the door shut behind me, audibly. Since the place had cleared out it was easier to hear things. I continued walking as if I had a right to be there and I was more important than anyone around me. I headed right towards the stage.

“Are you lost?” Billy called in my direction as soon as I got close enough to be seen.

“No, I know exactly where I am,” I replied. I didn’t get on the stage as I didn’t want to appear to be some type of crazy stalker or psychotic fangirl. I just stopped where I was, leaning against it. Being tall, and in heels, my head came right up over the edge but stopped there. I could see him from where I was but had to tilt my head up just slightly. He came towards me, brushing past the three other guys he had been talking to before. They paused to watch for a moment but then shrugged it off as normal and began to speak softly amongst themselves again.

“Maybe I should rephrase that.” He said, dropping down to a crouching position and looking me over. His eyes widened just a bit and his pause was longer than it needed to be. Did he find me attractive? It was certainly possible because if he hadn’t then I’m sure the next move would have been to shout for security, which he did not do. “Are you supposed to be in here?”

“No,” I said.

“Then why are you here?” He asked. There was nothing in his tone that denoted he was upset or annoyed. It was far more curious than anything, almost playful. I smiled at him.

“Because I wanted to meet Billy Idol. Have you see him around?” I asked. His expression went from friendly to one of almost offended until he realized that I was joking and laughed. He hopped down from the stage so we were eye to eye. Almost. I already matched his height without heels so in the platform sandals I was wearing I stood about five inches taller. This nearly put his face at chest level. He looked there for a moment, and I’m unsure why, as my breasts aren’t huge and I wasn’t wearing anything low cut before he adjusted his line of sight to my eyes.

“Don’t know where he went, love. Could try to help you find him. I’m his stunt double.” He said with a cocky grin.

“Really?” I asked, playing along even as my heart began to pound and my stomach flipped. He was mere inches from me at that point and I had, for some stupid reason, decided to go down this avenue of conversation instead of outright stating that I was a fan and it was an honor to meet him. I also didn’t exactly know how to get out of it easily since he was now playing along. “Why would he need a stunt double?”

“You know how those diva rock stars get.” He said waving his hand flippantly as if he were annoyed by some actual rock star he allegedly worked for as a stuntman. I couldn’t help but laugh at this, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I must confess I had no plan to get out of this when I, well, pretended that I didn’t know you are Billy Idol,” I said after another moment. He nodded.

“Could have guessed that. It was fun while it lasted.” He put a hand on my arm gently and rubbed it before moving away from me back towards the stairs that would take him onto the stage. I watched him, from where I was, not moving because there hadn’t been any sort of explicit invitation. He looked amazingly good for his age. His leap from the stage down to me seemed to barely take anything out of him, and he was moving just fine. It made me question if he was fine, or if he had hurt himself and was pretending he hadn’t. The only reason I would question that was that I was well aware of his leg injury and from what I’d heard, it still caused him a decent amount of pain. Those had just been rumors, after all. I didn’t know the man personally nor would I ever have claimed I did just because I listened to his music and read his book. I may have admired him but it was only to the point that he was allowing himself to be admired. The information he released about his life, though brutally honest and overly detailed, was what I knew. I still couldn’t say I knew him as a person.

“Off to call security then?” I called after him.

“Only if you don’t follow me.” He called, not stopping to say it but giving a glance over his shoulder. It took my brain a moment to decide if that was serious or not before I was able to scramble into the action and trip up the stairs behind him almost falling in my heels and breaking my ankle in the process.

“What is this then?” I asked him, “I blatantly break the rules and come in here when I’m definitely not supposed to, only to be rewarded?” He didn’t answer just yet but walked through a door and I kept following stupidly. It wasn’t until we were at a second door and he had it open that he turned to look at me.

“No, you will definitely get a punishment for being naughty.” He said, “But I only see fit to serve that out myself. It’s only fair, don’t you think?” He stepped through the door he was in front of without another glance or word to me. I felt my face flush and my body run hot. This had to be a dream or a trick. Maybe I had stumbled into some reality TV universe and it would all end up being a prank. His gruff voice was already evoking as much arousal from me as humanly possible. My knees weakened and legs started to tremble. It took every ounce of strength I had in the moment to lift one foot and then the other to follow after him.

The door shut behind me and it wasn’t long until I found I was in a green room of some sort. It was nice. Not huge but plenty of space to be punished, if he was indeed serious about doing that. A couch, table, and an area set up with food and drinks. It was cooler in here than it had been in the arena, which made it much nicer. It was probably a relief to him as well since he was still sweating from the show. He sat down on the couch and put his leg up on the coffee table. He wasn’t dressed in the leather pants I was accustomed to seeing him in. Tonight it seemed to be black jeans, a black T-shirt with some rock or punk band logo I wasn’t familiar with, a metal chain around his neck. There were also the typical miscellaneous rings on his fingers. The shirt did a very nice job outlining his muscles. His pants weren’t tight but they weren’t baggy and they were tucked into the black combat boots that topped off the outfit. Had I seen any other man his age in the same outfit with the same spiky and bleached hair I would have found it ridiculous but it worked for him. It would always work for him.

“Well, thank you for inviting me back here but-“

“But what?” He said, “I told you that you were owed a punishment, didn’t I? You think I wasn’t serious?”

“Actually-“

“Come here.” He said very firmly. It wasn’t something I’d say was forceful or even commanding. At least not commanding on purpose, no. His voice by default was deep and rough which made one conjure up images of being commanded if they were in the right frame of mind. However, what I realized in that moment was it was more of a suggestion or even a test. I knew if I declined or started to protest he would be a nice enough man to discontinue this behavior. Something that was easy to tell by the smug grin on his face. The only thing that disappointed me in the moment was that he had yet to refer to himself as daddy, but I couldn’t blame him for not knowing all of my own personal kinks instantly.

That time, I didn’t try to answer again and just walked towards him. Part of him seemed surprised that I was listening. Almost as if he really didn’t have a gameplan after the moment he told me to come over to him. I nearly laughed at it but took a deep breath to prevent the giggles from bubbling over. His eyes traced my body and a tremor of pleasure flowed through me nicely. Bumps starting to raise up on the flesh that was exposed. I was in a plain black T-shirt myself and a black skirt. I’d changed into it to walk around as the pants I’d worn for the trip would have been too hot to travel in the night heat of Vegas comfortably.

“You break into concert venues where you were not invited but take commands very easily despite that. Interesting.” He said.

“I’m an enigma.” I joked. I really actually wasn’t. In fact, my blunt and extremely straight forward, no bullshit attitude cost me a lot of friends. Except, I wasn’t very interested in having a ton of friends. People either liked me for who I was or they could fuck off. I didn’t have time to waste with polite small talk and meaningless banter. It was a choice I’d made far back in high school when I realized how much damn energy it took to conform and how much happier I was when I just did my own thing. He chuckled and patted the area of the couch next to him as if he wanted me to sit. I easily obliged this and joined him there, attempting to give at least a small bit of space between us but right before I could relax completely he pulled me in very close. I yelped in surprise and before I knew it I was over his lap. His firm hand pushing my skirt up over my ass. I squealed and pressed my face into the cushion on the other side of him but did not attempt to make this stop.

“Enigma or not, you’re definitely in need of a spanking.” He chuckled running his hand over my now exposed ass. Well, mostly exposed. It wasn’t as if I weren’t wearing panties but they weren’t doing much to cover the area his hand was pressing firmly against. I whined softly and closed my eyes as I anticipated the first slap. There was quite a moment of anticipation too before it happened. This caused me to jerk from surprise. I thought I’d been ready for it but I had not. It wasn’t painful, or at least not as painful as it could have been and it definitely wasn’t anything I hadn’t experienced before. Maybe the fact of the matter was that the real impact came from the emotional understanding of who was doing this to me and that I wasn’t stopping it. There was another, then another. All of them firm, and in a slow rhythm. As if calculated. Alternating from one cheek to the other. Since I had my face pressed into the fabric of the couch I couldn’t see him and I didn’t dare lift my head to break the spell of the moment. I could feel his growing arousal under me.

After the count of ten, and my ass considerably hotter than when he had started, he stopped. I heard and felt him take in a deep breath. He didn’t attempt to pull the skirt back down. Instead, his hand went back to my ass and gripped it firmly, a nice squeeze before pulling back. My legs were shaking, as was the rest of my body. Arousal so strong it was painful. A nagging ache that begged for attention immediately. It only annoyed me because I was usually not the submissive. In fact, I had worked many years as a pro-dominatrix and every last one of my relationships with a male had been in a BDSM context where I had been dominant. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the capacity to be a submissive because I’d done it on very rare occasions for men I had deeply trusted. This instant servitude from one command and a bit of manhandling had thrown my mind for a loop. Who was he, and why had that worked? I wasn’t even the type to get starstruck to the level of stupidity or consenting to things I didn’t want to do, and at the end of it all I had really liked it but he was basically a stranger to me. Not someone I could trust, yet in an odd way I felt I might already know him. Just from his music.

I hesitated for a moment before lifting myself back up. My face red from humiliation as well as arousal. I did not attempt to sit back down next to him. Instead, I slipped to the floor and knelt by the couch, keeping my eyes forward and contemplating my next move. My eyes scanned the wall then as much of his body as they could without turning my head to directly acknowledge him. There was still silence but it wasn’t particularly uncomfortable. It was almost as if he understood I was thinking and needed a moment to do it. Some unspoken communication, the likes of which I hadn’t ever experienced so quickly with what was essentially a stranger to me. Finally, I turned my head to look up at him.

“I’m not usually a submissive,” I said.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Yeah me too, I don’t know what exactly just happened there,” I replied and shifted so I could get to my feet. I stepped over his leg so I was straddling him but still standing. I lean leaned forward, bending at the waist as I looked down into his eyes. “Maybe I’m going to have to make you pay for that.”

“Maybe I’d like to see you try.” He growled. I smiled and my hand went to the choke chain around his neck, grabbing the loop and pulling it tightly as if he were an unruly dog that I had to get control of.

“I guess we’ll just have to see. Won’t we?” I whispered.


	2. Chapter II

“You’re used to being dominant then, as in what? Like a dominatrix?” He asked, his eyes lighting up. The only reason they seemed dull before was most likely due to the fact that he had just performed a concert. I knew from online videos (past and current) that all of his concerts were high energy. Passionate. As he had aged he’d still put everything he could into them but being in his early sixties meant less energy, especially by the end. It greatly annoyed me to see comments on videos of people complaining about this. It was as if they wished for him to stay frozen in time. It wasn’t possible. He could simply be not performing at all. To which they’d complain about anyway. Selfish assholes they were. Why wasn’t it good enough that he performed in any capacity? I’d have personally been fine if he stood in the same spot the whole time to sing and didn’t move at all.

“I worked many years as a dominatrix, yes,” I said giving the chain around his neck another small jerk. “I wouldn’t say I am strictly dominant, though, I’m what you’d call a switch. I can be-“

“Either or, I’m familiar with the term.” He said and grabbed my wrist firmly to prevent me from jerking the chain again. He didn’t need to say more than that to tell me he was a switch as well. After reading his book I could see the potential for both. It seemed that he appreciated strong and dominant women as much as he liked to lead them. We’d make a good match if there was a match to be made. I believe chances of that were low beyond one night or a weekend fling but it would certainly be fun while it lasted.

“Then what is it going to be here?” I asked him. Though he had his hand on my wrist he wasn’t doing more than that. He hadn’t pushed me back, pulled me in, or otherwise made an attempt to change my dominant stance over him.

“Looks like we’ll have to fight for it.”

“Do you really think you can win?” I asked and then smirked. His expression morphed into one that I assumed mirrored the cockiness of my own.

“All I can tell you is that my doubt on if I can or cannot win will only serve to push me harder.” He said, his voice low and gruff. It sent chills through me once more. He was definitely at an advantage here. If anything, I had a severe handicap and not because of his physical prowess. It was his voice and always had been his voice. It was part of what had drawn me to him in the first place. The primal growls and screams mixed into his music. The music that was always about sex and drugs. About danger. It seemed that he was exactly what he preached via his melodies. The man embodied every last percentage of his music. Mind, body, and soul.

“Don’t think I’ve ever made this into a competition before. How do we even start?” I asked. He looked me over then around the room as if he were thinking about it. Suddenly, the grip on my wrist tightened and I was grabbed, pulled forward, and shoved back onto the couch. I found myself pinned under him a moment later. Things happened so fast I hadn’t even been able to cry out and now, with him above like that, I could barely catch my breath.

“Like that.” He whispered

“That’s cheating,” I replied, my voice just as soft.

“All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.” He grinned and grabbed my face, running his thumb roughly over my lips. I am unsure of what compelled me to lean forward and take it into my mouth to suck on it, mostly because that could be seen as a submissive move, but it worked. When he felt my lips and the warm heat of my tongue over his skin, his resolve lessened a bit. His hold on me loosened. It was exactly what I needed. I kept him placated with that for a bit before I made my move.

Slipping out from under him I rolled to the floor, scrambling back up to my feet, only to pounce on top of his back as he knelt on the couch, his hands still in the position they had been as he was on all fours to pin me. The idea that I could pin him with my weight was fairly laughable. I was barely over one hundred pounds and given my height, it was well dispersed. A man with his body could pick me up and throw me across the room if he wished. He shifted so he was flat on the couch, his chest pressed into the cushions under him, head turned to the side. He must have known what I was going for. The choke chain.

“You are aware this is only working because I am allowing it to, yes?”

“Shut up,” I growled and grabbed his hair, digging my nails sharply into his scalp before yanking back on his hair. He let out a roar of pain, and it was much louder than it needed to be. I gathered quickly that it was the type of roar meant to induce more arousal. The type of roar he’d give on stage during a song. Bastard. He was not going to win this. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t. My grip held firm until he eventually needed to lift his head up and back to attempt to relieve some of the tension. It was then that my other hand slipped under his neck and found the loop for the chain.

Keeping the entire linked necklace loose, I slipped it around back, my finger through the front loop. Once it was behind him, I pulled back firmly as if he were an unruly dog on a leash, and choked him for a moment. I didn’t do it with intent to completely restrict his air supply but I definitely had the intent to show him I wasn’t joking around any longer. This wasn’t like working with a former client and typical breathplay. I hadn’t worked out any sort of safe word or signal with him to be able to know if he needed it to stop. As such, I was left in a position where I’d always have to leave him the ability to speak.

“You going to listen yet?” I asked, my other hand finally letting go of his hair. His head dropped and he shook it out. He twisted to get a hand to his neck and throat, where the chain was, attempting to work his fingers between the metal and the neck to gain some control back.

“If you wish to win…I suggest…you choke…harder than that.” He rasped, his hand still searching for a way past the restriction, his voice breathless and laced with lust. My hand started to shake as I almost gave into temptation. This weakened grip was all he needed to feel me slip and get his fingers where they needed to be. Once they were in place he pulled forward on the chain, allowing himself completely full breaths now instead of half-assed labored ones.

“Shit…” I muttered, and I was right to do so because it was only moments later I was crashing to the floor on my back. He had me pinned once more. However he had done that, it certainly hadn’t been as rough as it could have been because it was jarring more than it hurt. It denoted it was a move he’d made before. Considering his life, versus my own, I couldn’t really be too surprised about it. Could I?

“Now,” He whispered leaning in close to get his lips right next to my ear, “You’re going to be a good girl, right?”

“Fuck you,” I whispered and my knee came up hitting him right in the stomach. I hadn’t put as much force into it as I could have, and I knew I shouldn’t have done it at all, the problem was that it was only something I noticed after I had done it. He fell off of me and to the side, rolling onto his back and releasing a groan.

“Damn.” He breathed then coughed.

“Oh God,” I blurted out and scrambled to sit up and move towards him, putting my hand on his cheek gently. “I am so sorry, I can get overly competitive when challenged and I didn’t want to lose, I hate losing. It was a dirty trick and-” Before I could continue his hand came up around the back of my head and I was pulled down into a hungry kiss. It took a moment for me to recover from my annoyance at what had now been revealed to be a trick before I kissed him back with equal passion. He let go of me a moment later, pushing me back, a smirk twisting over his lips.

“Pity,” He said, “I was hoping you were too smart to fall for that.”

“Shut up, no you weren’t,” I said and slapped his chest playfully. “Maybe it would be best if we called it a draw.”

“Perhaps.” He said, sitting up as well. “But if we do that, where’s the fun and what is the prize?” He moved a hand to my thigh and started to shift it upward to push my skirt along with it. I didn’t stop him. Instead of doing that, or sitting there and just taking it this time, my hands move to his pants. I unzipped them slowly. This caused him to pause, which in turn caused me to pause. As if testing it, he moved his hand up another inch but then stopped. I unbuttoned his pants as a response but stopped there as well.

“I don’t intend on making this easy for you,” I said.

“I can very well see that, love.” He replied and moved back so he was better able to rest against the couch. “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“Lisa.” I replied, “Lisa Brixton. Not sure why it matters now.”

“Need to know who’s name to scream when I’m blowing my load.” He laughed.

“Who says I’m even going to let that happen tonight?” I asked, a curious grin spreading over my face.

“You won’t be able to help yourself, darling.” He told me.

“Really? You think?” I asked.

“I know.” He whispered. “I could make you cum in less than a minute.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really.” He said. “Think I have you all figured out. Not much of an enigma as you want me to think.”

“Fine. Since you are so damn cocky, prove it. You have a minute and I’ll be timing it.” I got out my phone and held it up so he could see it. From there I set the timer to one minute and hovered my thumb over the start button. “If you can’t do it?”

“Then I’ll have to wait until tomorrow I suppose.” He said. My heart fluttered hearing that. The idea that not only would I see him tomorrow but he was already planning it made me nearly dizzy with excitement. “What happens when I win?”

“If.”

“When.” He growled, his voice firm as he made very strong eye contact with me. I felt my face redden with that familiar aroused heat from before, or any time he used that sort of inflection. Whether he meant to, or not. Fuck. He was probably right. No, definitely right. I wanted to win, really really wanted to, but I knew I wouldn’t. I’d definitely put up a fight though.

“Okay, when then, what happens? What do you win?”

“I win the right to fuck you so damn hard you regret challenging me in the first place.” He said. There was no way I was going to disagree to those terms. All of this seemed like a win win situation for me. Probably to him too. Especially since I didn’t in any way believe I could or would win. He snatched my phone from my hand then stood up so he could sit back down on the couch. “Come here, in my lap, now.”

I nodded and I couldn’t move fast enough to meet his demands. This led me nearly flaling awkwardly as I more tripped into his lap than sat on it properly. He didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. The phone was held up in my line of vision so I could see the timer had started. Then, he tossed it onto the couch and got to work. There wasn’t any real time for foreplay, but it wasn’t as if what we were doing before hadn’t been some type of warm up to this moment. He pressed me closer to him his face going into my neck where he bit at my skin. A hand slipping past the waistband of my skirt and right into my panties. I gasped and closed my eyes, lowering my head just a bit so I could rest on his shoulder.

I felt his skilled fingers run over my wet folds, teasing me a bit. His mouth and tongue on the skin of my neck as he sucked, licked and kissed. His fingers exploring me. One of them found my clit and started to stroke it. His hands were rough but that only made for a better sensory experience. I stifled my groan against his neck, I’d never been much of a vocal partner for one, but for two, I didn’t want to give him any sense that what he was doing was the right thing. If he did, then he’d only be more encouraged and get cockier. I don’t think it mattered much, though. My cunt was wet, I could feel it which meant he definitely could by that point. I gasped again as a finger was slipped into me and in response to this, I bit into his neck tightly.

“Fuck…” he breathed, “You are quite ready for this aren’t you?” He whispered starting to move his hand again. It was almost as if he were playing an instrument, and I could tell that the only virgin here at anything was me. There probably wasn’t something he hadn’t done in this realm. I knew his life story and I knew he knew how to please anyone he had to please.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” He growled getting a second finger in a moment later. I shuddered, my climax quickly approaching. The combination of the growl and the command really doing it for me. I couldn’t help but thrust my hips more towards him and his fingers as his thumb started to press against my clit in random pressurize intervals sending periodic jolts of pleasure through me. God, I was so close. I also had no way of seeing the timer on the phone with how I was positioned. I had to be close to a minute right? Maybe? Fuck. He was going to win and as much as I was ready for it I wasn’t.

“You’re…cheating.” I panted.

“How?” He asked.

“You damn well know…how.” I hissed, my hips speeding up their fevered motion towards his hand. At that point, he pressed his thumb firmly against my clit and started to move it in a circular motion. I cried out, my hands moving to his arms, my nails digging into the flesh that I could find there.

“You mean, with my voice?” He growled again. That’s what did it. Such an innocuous statement but the vibrations and the gruffness ripped through me as if I’d been literally stabbed with pleasure. I let out a bit of a cry then bit into his neck again, hard enough that I definitely made him bleed. I could taste it. My hips bucked and jerked towards his hand wildly as I orgasmed at least two times before I found it within me to be able to calm down. I realized in that moment, as clarity came back to me, I had been biting him the entire time. Like some kind of animal intent on not allowing its prey to escape. I’d been holding my breath too. I gasped loudly as I pulled back, it was then I felt something drip down my lip and over my chin.

I blinked a few times and looked at him, and his neck. The bite mark wasn’t very severe, and nothing that wouldn’t be easily fixed after basic first aid, it was bleeding, though. His blood had to be what was on my face. He reached up, looking smug and wiped it away with his thumb as his hand moved from my panties to his lips to suck on his fingers and get a nice taste. It was after that moment that he grabbed the phone and picked it up to show it to me. I’d made it about 20 seconds. Obviously, when I had started to climax he had the presence of mind to stop it, just to prove his point. I laughed breathlessly and then slapped him.

“Hey! Don’t slap me because you lost you fucking bitch!” He cried, his tone was still playful so I knew I hadn’t actually upset him, or hurt him for that matter.

“All’s fair in love and war, isn’t that what you said earlier, Billy?”

“Didn’t mean for you to take that as a free pass to slap me around.” He chuckled, “But I suppose I’d be pretty upset too if I lost so badly.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s right, isn’t it? Time for Daddy to get his prize.” He placed his hands on my hips and threw me back onto the couch. I yelped as he shoved my skirt up and yanked my panties completely down. I was more stunned that this was happening than anything else in the moment so I didn’t try to counteract what he was doing. Not that I would have even without being stunned. I’d offered him this chance and he had won. Not only won but really fucking flamed me with that time. Twenty seconds? He probably felt like a God.

“D-Don’t do that…” I breathed.

“What?” He paused and I think he thought that I meant for him to not fuck me, it took me a moment to realize that I’d only said half of what I’d meant to say.

“Sorry, I meant, don’t refer to yourself as Daddy.”

“Well, you know telling me not to do something only makes me want to do it more, yes?” He laughed and got his pants and boxers down just enough to remove his cock. It was a pity that at that angle and as close to me as he was I didn’t really get a good look at it but I certainly did feel it as he slammed into me. I screamed out, the pleasure and pain combination of sensory overload catching me in the moment. Not that he seemed to care too much as he began to thrust. Fuck was he good at this. I moved to put my hands on his shoulders, my legs pulling back to allow him to enter me deeper.

“Oh God do I ever know…” I moaned.

“Good because Daddy doesn’t intend to stop.” He warned and sped up his pace. The thrusts were relatively painful but the kind of pain that really only made the moments of pleasure far more enjoyable. He was really into this, more so than any recent partner I had done anything with. I liked it. I could see the look in his eyes and on his face. As if he were very determined, but hungry as well. He was growling softly too, I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just something he did, but I was melting.

It didn’t take him very long to finish, not that I expected it too and I definitely wasn’t disappointed. Though I did not orgasm a third time, I wasn’t upset with that either. There was such an emotional and psychological satisfaction watching him orgasm and being able to comprehend the moment, filing it into my memory. Had I climaxed as well, I’d have missed it and this memory would be worth every last cent that I paid to make this trip. When he was finished, he collapsed on top of me, but only for a moment before shifting us so we were both on our sides, facing each other.

“Did you…”

“Sorry, no.” I said, “But trust me, I’m not unsatisfied and the orgasms you gave me before more than made up for it. I really only want to make sure you feel good. Besides, you made me cum in twenty seconds, Billy. That’s gotta do something for your ego.” He laughed and pulled me in closer, pressing his face into my shoulder for a moment. I felt him trying to hurry to catch his breath so he could speak again.

“I will see you tomorrow then?” He asked after another moment.

“Who says I even have to leave tonight? I think that is entirely up to you.” I said, my hand coming up to stroke his hair. After that, we lay there in silence. He didn’t make any move to hurry and kick me out and I wasn’t in a hurry. I supposed I’d get an answer when he was ready to give it but for now, I would take pleasure in this moment and enjoy what I had while it lasted. It was the only time I would have it.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m staying at the Four Seasons.” He muttered right as I had begun to doze off. I snorted in a loud gasp of air, startled by the sudden break in the silence. My eyes opened and I looked at him. This hadn’t been a dream. This was all crazy but it hadn’t been a dream and now I was unsure what I had done or if it had even been the right thing to do. This was like a bad romance novel or really bad fan fiction. What did I even think we could possibly have as any sort of a future and why was I listening to this?

“Huh?” Was all I managed to come out with in the next moment.

“The Four Seasons. I have a room there.” He moved away from me gently so he could sit up and make himself decent. I watched him, stupidly, half dressed from where I still lay on the couch already missing laying next to someone like that but knowing that it was futile to invest in this far too much.

“Look, Billy,” I started, shifting into a sitting position and deftly reaching for my panties on the floor, “I know how this is. You are a rockstar type guy who is on the road having fun and I’m just kind of that girl who you slept with before you went back home. It’s likely no different from any other hundreds or thousands that you’ve done this with. I’m not just a…weekend fling. Hell, I’m really not even a one night stand but you have powers I can’t explain. That, what just happened, that’s a big fucking no-no for me in everyday life.”

“Lisa-”

“No just, let me finish.” I cut him off, “I’m not your typical fan. At all. Which of course makes me sound like a hundred other typical fans but I really mean that and I know that. I talk to your fans, the other ones, what few of them I can find on the internet. They want 80s Billy Idol. The punk guy. The image. I want the real you. The human being. The man who wrote that amazing book and that amazing album. I don’t want the teen dream in the magazine. I don’t want the idea of the functional, successful, adult celebrity who has it all together. I don’t want your money, I certainly don’t want your fame, I want you as a person. I want the arguably fucked up man from that book. I don’t mean any of this in a bad way but you, as a flawed human being is everything I ever wanted because we match in ways you could never understand and I could never explain in five minutes. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was born 20 years too late to ever have the chance I want and damn well feel I deserve because you’re already taken, regardless of how many groupies you bang it will never, ever be anything more than this and that is not fair to me.”

He just stood there staring at me. I wasn’t sure what the expression was meant to be, honestly. Shock, confusion, offense, sadness? It was rather blank. A brick wall of non-emotion that my brain either couldn’t quantify or was far too tired to. Instead of trying to speak more, I looked away, grabbed my panties, and pulled them on under my skirt as I stood up. Carefully, I walked over to him and put a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. He continued to give me that weird look before moving away and walking over to a bag on the floor by one of the tables in the room. I sighed. The silent treatment, that was always great. Shaking my head, I started to move towards the door. Of course, my honesty and integrity had to blow this before it even began but at least I’d have some memories. Bittersweet, but I had them. My hand on the door knob I felt his hand on my shoulder from behind. I turned to look at him, he was holding up a key card for a hotel room between his index and middle finger.

“I said I was staying at the Four Seasons.” He grabbed my hand and put the card into it then closed my hand around it. I stood there completely still, I’m sure I was just as completely blank in that moment as he had been when I’d given my entire speech. My mouth had gone dry. “Room 3508. Walk in there like you own the place and you won’t be questioned.”

“But…”

“You did it here just fine.” He said then smiled and stepped back from me. I smiled back but it was certainly a weak one. Clutching the card in my hand I headed out of there, taking that as my cue to leave. Certainly, someone would be missing him soon enough and he probably had things left to do here, I didn’t know. I also didn’t know if I was going to go see him or call it quits right then and there. This was far too much for a woman like me to handle. I was a nobody and he was everything. How could I ever face him again? Especially after what I had said.

* * *

Once I got back to my hotel room, I tossed the keycard onto the dresser and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. A very long and hot shower. It was only at that point that I was able to decompress and cry heavily about this entire thing. I had nothing left for me in the city from which I came. I knew I’d ultimately end up back there, being no one, experiencing nothing. I’d die there. Alone. It wasn’t as if I expected Billy Idol specifically to rescue me because I’d always, my entire life, been able to rescue myself. Pull myself out of everything. No one was ever there for me and I was still living. I was still making my way. I was still pushing on. Thirty years of this life would tire anyone out. Too tired to keep living too scared to die. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Constantly feeling like I was dealt the wrong hand and something had been fucked up along the way.

Unwanted since birth. Given up for adoption and handed to parents who used and abused me. The scapegoat and black sheep. The problem child that was at the front of every family problem and conflict. Led to believe that if I hadn’t been there, or hadn’t been born, the family would have been perfect. It was always me. Just me. From day one I was passed off to others. Too much of a problem for my mother, my adoptive parents, my teachers…no one wanted to listen to me. No one ever let me speak. I never told my story. I never would get to tell my story. I wrote plenty of things. I had plenty of followers but that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because it wasn’t a large enough audience. I wasn’t truly being heard.

I supposed it was selfish to ask this. To ask the entire world fall at my feet and listen to me. To think that I was such an amazing author that I deserved that recognition. The truth was, that I had never felt talented. At least not to the level of some award winning author. I believed that I had stories to tell, good stories and original stories. That my ideas alone, that would be enough to carry me. It hadn’t been. No matter what corner I turned or avenue I tried. I could make a very meager amount of money from my online book sales or donations to my website but no one cared enough to take it further. No one ever would care.

I didn’t want Billy’s fame or the fame of anyone else. I wanted my own fame. My own name. My own audience that I had built myself. I didn’t want a handout. I didn’t want money. I just wanted to be heard. That’s all I ever wanted from anyone, was to be heard. My parents never listened, nor did anyone else around me. I was the silly little girl with delusional dreams of one day being a writer. An incompetent spaz who couldn’t write. How cute. She thinks she’s going to be famous. Let’s humor her for a while, that is until she’s an adult and it’s time to tell her she has no support and she’s behaving too much like a dreamer and not an adult. The dreamer that came to Vegas and even quite possibly dreamed up that interaction with Billy Idol. Maybe I really was going insane. Most days it felt that way. At least recently.

I climbed out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around myself I went to the sink and grabbed my toothbrush, looking into the mirror for a moment as I did. I looked like a mess. The water in there hadn’t nearly done anything to get my makeup off so it was mostly streaked over my cheeks and around my eyes. My wet, red hair, was flattened against my face. My eyes bloodshot from exhaustion and crying. Had any of that really even happened? It really was like bad fan fiction. I left the bathroom to grab some makeup remover and saw the keycard again.

“He’s fucking crazy if he thinks I’m going back there,” I said to myself. It was comforting to hear a voice, even if it was my own. Something I’d done for a very long time to feel soothed. Especially since I was used to being locked in a room instead of being acknowledged. Most of my life had been spent in forced isolation and I’d learned to deal with it through either literal talking to myself or an extensive fantasy life. Maybe I’d finally gone so deep into the hole I believed this was happening.

Once I got the makeup remover, I went back into the bathroom and worked on cleaning up my face. It would be best to approach this problem as I approached every other one. Extreme avoision to it. If I avoided confrontation, never went to the hotel, and skipped the concert, I would be much better off. What I’d already gotten from him, dream or not, was good enough. I shouldn’t expect more and he certainly didn’t owe it to me. I was here to relax not get more stressed out and I vowed that it was exactly what I was going to do. No matter what. I only wished that my curiosity wasn’t strong enough to break that promise, as was also usual.

* * *

The next morning I woke up and also felt hungover. I knew I wasn’t because I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the night before and generally tended to avoid it, but I still felt that way. Maybe it was more of an emotional hangover than anything else. I forced myself to get out of bed around noon and stop feeling sorry for myself. I passed that key card for his hotel room a dozen times before leaving to get lunch. Usually when I felt this shitty eating something helped me cheer up.

There was a buffet in the casino so that’s where I found myself next. I paid for my plate and entered. I ate my fill as I browsed my phone and texted a few of my friends. I didn’t mention anything about Billy Idol. At least not more than buying a ticket to his concert on a whim. I wasn’t the type of girl to fuck and tell, and even if I was, he did deserve some privacy in this matter. It was something I wanted to keep to myself. Only a memory that I could have. Sharing it would cheapen the moment and the value. It was hard not to tell. Really hard. Especially to the few friends I had who were also fans of his and would have loved to hear about it.

I checked my email and drank down the last of my coffee then strayed into the casino to gamble a bit. After somehow winning a hundred dollars at a few rounds of blackjack I was feeling far less sorry for myself but decided to quit right then and there. I wasn’t the optimistic type and had convinced myself that I’d just start losing if I kept letting it ride. I headed back up to my room and went through my bag until I found my bathing suit. After putting my hair up and applying sunscreen to my ridiculously white skin, I packed a small bag of stuff with the intent to head out to the pool and listen to music while I read things on my phone or texted my friends. The key card caught my eye once more. Shit.

Was he really serious? Really? After how I’d behaved and the last things I’d said to him? What did he want from me? That couldn’t have possibly happened, right? Fuck. If there was any problem I had other than attempting to avoid difficult situations, it was an obsession with figuring them out. Searching for the truth. I was already well aware I’d never get the truth from my parents. About why they treated me like they did despite allegedly wanting me bad enough to adopt me. I knew that I would never get the truth on who my real father was. I knew these things very well but it still didn’t stop me from attempting to find a better way to understand them. Beyond the obvious answers, at least. This was going to be the same thing and I hated myself for it.

I grabbed a pair of jean shorts and a hoodie jacket then pulled it on. Slipping into my far less high heeled sandals, I took the key card and packed it into my pool bag. I’d just go there, it would be very quick. He was performing that night so there was a good chance he wouldn’t even be there. That would be best for me. Then I wouldn’t have to face him. Right. He would not be there and I would realize how stupid I was being by the time I reached his door. Then I could laugh about this later as I flew back home to my life full of absolute nothingness.

* * *

I entered the hotel lobby just as he had told me to do. Just as I had entered the concert venue that night. The key card was in my hand but not obviously so. I just pretended that I had a room there and I was heading for that room. The only reason I held the key casually was so it appeared I really did have a room. As expected, no one gave me any sort of hassle (even despite the fact that I was completely under dressed compared to how that lobby looked). I wondered how Billy could even feel comfortable at a place like this since he wasn’t one to typically dress up or really be fancy. At least, he never came across as that type of person to me.

As the elevator doors shut I breathed a huge sigh of relief and rested against the guard rail to be taken up to the 35th floor which is where I assumed room 3508 was. That was the only thing that made sense. The doors dinged and opened and I stepped out into the hallway. This wasn’t a normal hallway or a normal floor. This was one of the ones with suites. That was instantly obvious from the decor and the fact that each room door was very far from the next one. Shit, what was I even doing here? This was stupid and I needed to leave. Cursing under my breath I stepped forward into the hall and heard the doors shut behind me. I turned and saw that it was definitely heading down. If I wanted to catch it again, I’d have to wait. I had time to kill regardless.

The sign in front of me with arrows pointing in either direction showed me which way to go and very unwillingly, I headed in the direction of 3508. Once I was there, I started to question if I really had the right room. Maybe I’d heard him wrong. I already had a lame disorder with numbers that caused me to flip them. Could I have done that? No. There wasn’t a floor fifty-three here and any other combination didn’t make sense either. I could have been wrong. Maybe he said five-oh-eight and I had some how added a three in there. No, that didn’t make sense either. Fuck it.

I stood there just staring at the door for the longest time. My hand raised up stupidly like I wanted to knock but I didn’t actually knock. He wouldn’t be in there anyway, I was sure of it, but apparently not so sure that I wasn’t walking away. Not so sure that I wasn’t knocking to confirm. He’d given me the key though. It denoted he wanted me to just walk right in. It was a more friendly invitation than knocking or stopping by to see if he was there. Right? But he wouldn’t be there. I had to keep that in mind because if I thought any different I would surely bolt down the hall and start pounding the elevator button as quickly and firmly as I possibly could.

“Fuck my life,” I muttered and knocked on the door loudly. I winced and took a step back, trying to calm my breathing. There was a long pause then some muffled shouting. It sounded like I was being told to come in. I wasn’t sure, though, so I took a step closer to the door. I heard some scrambling around in there, then a loud bang as something fell, a bunch of cursing and then another command to “come the fuck in already”. Dammit, well it was now or never. I could get to the elevator in the next five seconds if I wanted to but I’d be waiting there and there was no way he wouldn’t see me. Fine. If this was what he wanted I’d give it to him but it was definitely a mistake on his part and he’d find that out soon enough. He was out of my league, and it really should only take five minutes to explain that to him, right? I moved the key card and placed it into the slot as I prepared to live the very last happy moments of my life as they went down in a blaze of glory.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Once the key reader turned green I grabbed the handle and pushed it down to get the door open. To my surprise, Billy was on the floor on his back, no shirt and some black jeans looking at his phone very casually. Considering what I had heard moments before that I could only assume he was in a hurry to get to the door and had fallen, then decided to make it look like all of that was on purpose. The nerves I had been feeling somewhat melted away and I laughed softly. He had a suite so the area I had just stepped into was large and very nice.

“Comfortable?” I asked, walking over to him and looking down. He glanced at me for a moment before going back to his phone as if I had interrupted him and this was a perfectly normal activity for him to be doing. It was only when I noticed there was a bite mark on his neck that I was able to confirm to myself the night before had not been a dream. My mouth went dry and I could feel beads of sweat breaking out over my forehead. This was crazy. I was crazy. Yet, I was still there and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself without some sense of closure on the matter.

“Very.” He said, “This is good for my back.”

“So you didn’t just trip and fall trying to get to the door? Who did you think I was, anyway and how did you know I would have a key?” I asked, moving to toss my bag onto the couch before sitting down next to it. The room definitely smelled like someone had been smoking pot and I wasn’t blind to the fact that it would have been him. From what I knew he was a fan of the stuff. I hadn’t had any in years at that point, it had never been my drug of choice and when I did do it, it was only socially.

“To be quite honest I was hoping you were room service or had brought food.” He replied and finally sat up, turning to look at me. “Did you bring food?”

“How high are you right now?”

“No higher than I was last night.” He replied.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I said.

“Do you have food or don’t you?” He smirked and finally got to his feet. “To answer the rest of your question, well, if you were room service you’d have said it and I wasn’t expecting anyone else who I also know has a key. If you hadn’t brought a key you’d have told me. You let yourself in. Just common sense, really.”

“I suppose,” I said. I could definitely see his point and I knew he wasn’t an idiot but that was some good logic for someone who was obviously eight miles high in the moment. “If you are good at anticipating the human mind, it leaves nothing to chance.”

“What?” He asked and got up completely to walk over to the couch where I was, sitting right next to me. His eyes traced my body for a moment, “What is this you are wearing? A sweat shirt in the middle of the afternoon? In Vegas?”

“It’s a quote from a movie,” I said, “As for what I am wearing…” I unzipped the hoodie and shrugged it off to reveal that the only thing on under it was the bikini top. He grinned and moved in to get his face near my neck, his hot breath on my skin. For a moment I almost considered letting him but I knew that I couldn’t. Not until I had some answers here. I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back before standing up quickly.

“Why the hell did you wear that here if you didn’t want me to do that?”

“I was trying to go to the pool, in my hotel, not here. Then I saw that stupid key card you gave me and well…curiosity killed the cat.” I replied.

“Certainly had fun with your cat last night.” He chuckled.

“Billy,” I started but then couldn’t stop myself from laughing for a moment, a hand coming to my face to shield it before managing to regain composure, “This outfit isn’t for you, I just…I needed some answers. I wore the hoodie because most of these buildings are heavily air conditioned. Besides, I didn’t want to walk through the lobby in only a bikini top and short shorts.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked, standing up again. I was quickly growing impatient with the lack of direction this conversation was taking. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to dealing with potheads because I entirely was, it was just that usually, they had more of an attention span. A man like him, who probably existed on pot did too, and that could only mean he was avoiding this on purpose. I sat back down, except this time I sat in a chair, not on the couch, it would limit his ability to sit next to me and tempt me with more close contact.

“Water is fine.” I replied. “Look, I don’t know why you wanted me to visit you know. After what I said last night. Why?”

“I think it’s interesting.”

“Interesting? That’s what you have to say about this? Interesting?” I asked, “Not anything else? You aren’t even slightly upset?”

“No, should I be?”

“I don’t know, maybe…” I said, “Aren’t you married?”

“I think you need to just stop asking questions and enjoy the moment. Live every day as if it’s your last.” He said walking to the small bar in the room and grabbing me a bottle of water from the mini fridge. He came to where I was sitting and held it out to me. I glared up at him and took it.

“I could do that, but I’m not a nihilist.” I said, “I mean, at this point you’d think I would be but some part of me can’t stop hoping that maybe there’s more to this suffering we call life than any of us can comprehend. I agree that also may make me stupid but it’s the one tiny ray of hope that keeps me from going insane with the idea that death is more than likely a horribly bleak finality that we never come back from.”

“Fair enough.” He said and stepped over to the window, looking out of it for a moment. He turned to look at me. “But, if this were your last night on earth, what would you want to do?”

“No offense but probably not go to a Billy Idol concert.” I laughed, “I’d probably spend it doing drugs.”

“Really?”

“I had well, a problem with them when I was younger. Let’s just call it that. If I knew tonight was my last night on earth, I’d gladly get myself wasted into oblivion because why would it matter in the morning? There wouldn’t be a morning.” I said. No sooner had I spoken those words, then it happened. A plane literally fell out of the sky. I saw it out of the window in the distance. Though it wasn’t close enough to be fatal to us, the shockwave blew all of the windows in and the boom of it was deafening. I was thrown to the floor, knocked out of my chair. My ears ringing and my vision blurry.

Determined not to pass out from this I attempted desperately to maintain my breathing and be sure I still was breathing.

_They say if you don’t hear the crash, you’re already dead._

I shook my head and closed my eyes tightly. Deep breath in, hold, slowly release, hold. Repeat. Whatever that was and why it had happened, was not going to allow me to panic. I’d never seen anything like it. The event only lasted maybe five seconds at most but it seemed like extremely slow motion as it had. The most horrifying part of it was, that it hadn’t looked like a crash. Not a deliberate one. Not an attack. It honestly looked like it fell straight down. As if all of the engines had stopped working all at once and it lost any sort of ability to glide or navigate.

I don’t know how long I stayed in that position trying to slow my breathing and calm myself but when I opened my eyes, things seemed a lot more clear. I could hear better and the ringing had dulled quite a bit. Outside I could hear screaming, car alarms, and other explosions. Possibly gunshots as well. We were on the thirty-fifth floor and it was slowly dawning on me that all of the power had gone out as well. No lights. Nothing. Anywhere. Then I saw him, on the ground, face first, and not moving.

“Billy!” I cried, moving towards him quickly. There were shards of glass in his back. Luckily it all seemed like superficial wounds. No large chunks, no metal. Like the ones in my arm. Wait…fuck. I looked around the room and inched back to grab my hoodie to wrap it around my arm before going back to him. “Billy? Hey…hey please be alive.” I begged, my fingers going to his neck to check for a pulse. I certainly wasn’t a medical professional of any type but checking someone’s pulse wasn’t the hardest thing to learn how to do either.

In my terror, it took me a moment to find the throbbing pulse that would indicate a heartbeat but it was there. I sighed a breath of relief and removed the hoodie from where I had wrapped it. I was going to need to get this glass out and I was quickly thinking that going right to a hospital wasn’t an option considering how incredibly impossible it would be in this chaos. Ultimately, these wounds were not that bad. They were painful, yes, but basic first aid, we could take care of it together.

“Say something,” I told him, turning my attention to my arm. I gingerly started to pick the glass out. Shard by shard. At least the ones that weren’t so embedded in there that I’d have to dig around or go find a pair of tweezers. Once that was done, I wrapped it up tightly again hoping to use the pressure to stem some of the blood flow. I couldn’t tell if I would need stitches but there wasn’t a ton of blood so it was doubtful. At least I certainly hoped it was.

“Like what?” He muttered, not lifting his head. At least he was now showing signs of consciousness and comprehension to my words. “The fuck just happened?”

“A plane fell out of the sky,” I said.

“Are you fucking shitting me?” He rasped, finally lifting his head enough to turn it and look in my direction. “I feel like I was hit by a truck.”

“Same.” I sighed, “You have glass in your back, I need to get it out.”

“Like hell you do.”

“Listen to that, all that noise outside, do you think we’re getting to a hospital anytime soon?” I asked, “None of it looks too deep in there, superficial, and worse comes to worse I’ll…stitch you up?”

“Oh, you did not sound even slightly confident about that.” He snapped.

“Guess what, like it or not, the power is out its utter fucking chaos outside, and you need help. Either let me help you or bleed to death on the goddamn floor!” I yelled at him, slowly getting to my feet, not realizing how dizzy I was until I was fully standing. Out of all of the things I could have ever thought might happen, this certainly was not one of them and if I didn’t keep my mind busy on a task I was going to start screaming and never be able to find a way to stop.


End file.
